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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24435910">Saturday Night Fever</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/luminality/pseuds/luminality'>luminality</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Disco Elysium (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action, Comedy, First Date, Fluff, Harry's voices on a fancy date, Hurt/Comfort, Lenny POV, Lenny who's Lenny well don't you wanna know, M/M, Romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:40:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,386</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24435910</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/luminality/pseuds/luminality</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry du Bois and Kim Kitsuragi go out for nice, romantic dinner. Unfortunately, things don't go as planned. </p>
<p>(Art by for <a href="https://i.imgur.com/0KWlpGf.png">Chapter 1</a>, <a href="https://i.imgur.com/gLegqTF.png">Chapter 2</a>, and <a href="https://i.imgur.com/0wmEr90.png">Chapter 4</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/NBirdV/pseuds/NBirdV">NBirdV</a>)</p>
<p>[Written for the Disco Elysium Big Bang 2020]</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Du Bois/Kim Kitsuragi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>151</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Disco Elysium Big Bang</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Wednesday</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p><strong>YOU</strong> - “Kim." You peer deeply into his eyes, “would you like to go out with me?”</p>
<p><strong>ELECTROCHEMISTRY</strong> - “Why yes, detective, I’ve been waiting for you to ask me out since forever, now <em>kiss me</em>---”</p>
<p><strong>DRAMA</strong> [Legendary: Failure] - No, no, no!!! The lieutenant would never say such a lurid thing!</p>
<p><strong>RHETORIC</strong> - You might want to rephrase your question too, since “Would you like to go out with me?” could mean either, "Do you want to go out on a date with me?" or, “Do you want to get out of here and grab a snack downstairs?”</p>
<p><strong>YOU</strong> - Groaning, you bump your forehead against the grimy bathroom mirror.</p>
<p>Guys, we’ve been doing this for the past 15 minutes. What if someone comes in to take a leak and they see me talking to myself?</p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>DRAMA</strong> - Then we create an elaborate lie about having to practice for a very important undercover assignment!</p>
<p><strong>LOGIC </strong>- In the men's bathroom?</p>
<p><strong>DRAMA</strong> - Do not underestimate my ability to make the most absurd situation sound plausible.</p>
<p><strong>VOLITION </strong>- You could always just wait until you get home before practicing how you’ll ask Kim out on your first date.</p>
<p><strong>HALF-LIGHT </strong>[Trivial: Success] - But it’s already Wednesday, and the restaurant said that they only accept reservations if you book by <em>this afternoon</em> and you need to ask Jean if you can borrow his car and think of your outfit and <em>oh my god what if Kim says no</em>—</p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>COMPOSURE</strong> - Okay, okay. Calm down. Let’s just practice again. You’re sure to get it this time!</p>
<p><strong>YOU</strong> - You take a deep breath and look at the mirror once more.</p>
<p><strong>PERCEPTION (SMELL) </strong>- The… potent smell of your surroundings doesn’t exactly encourage creative thinking, but you manage to focus anyway.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>DRAMA</strong> - For the purposes of this exercise, my liege, kindly imagine that the sink is the dear lieutenant.</p>
<p><strong>CONCEPTUALIZATION</strong> – The handle’s his eyes, and the spout’s his nose.</p>
<p><strong>YOU</strong> - But won’t that look like I’m trying to ask the sink out on a date?</p>
<p><strong>DRAMA</strong> - But sire, that’s <em>exactly</em> what you’re aiming for!</p>
<p><strong>CONCEPTUALIZATION</strong> - Only the sink is not a sink, but Kim.</p>
<p>The sink is Kim.</p>
<p><strong>YOU</strong> - … Okay. The sink is...Kim. Right.</p>
<p>You clear your throat and try to imagine Kim standing in front of you.</p>
<p>“Hey there, Kim.” You flash the sink-that-is-Kim your brightest smile. “Do you want to go out on a date with me?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>KIM KITSURAGI</strong> - “I’d love to, Harry.”</p>
<p><strong>DRAMA</strong> - Congratulations, my liege! The sink has accepted your romantic advances!</p>
<p><strong>PERCEPTION (HEARING)</strong> [Medium: Success] – Wait. That wasn’t the sink.</p>
<p><strong>YOU</strong> - You look up at the mirror—</p>
<p><strong>KIM KITSURAGI</strong> - —Only to lock eyes with the actual, non-sink Kim Kitsuragi, who’s leaning against the bathroom doorway with an amused smile on his face.</p>
<p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    
  </p>
</div><p> </p>
<p><strong>COMPOSURE</strong> [Legendary: Failure] - <strong>OH MY GOD</strong>—</p>
<p><strong>REACTION SPEED </strong>[Medium: Success] - You whirl around so fast that your leg smacks into the sink-that-was-Kim.</p>
<p><strong>PAIN THRESHOLD</strong> [Legendary: Failure] - Think you can cancel that date? Because you just dislocated your hip.</p>
<p><strong>YOU</strong> - “KIM! H-Hey there. I, uh—”</p>
<p><strong>COMPOSURE</strong> [Godly: Failure] – Were you trying to smile at him? Because the thing that's on your face right now looks more like a grimace of absolute terror.</p>
<p><strong>AUTHORITY</strong> [Godly: Failure] - The lieutenant just saw you asking a bathroom sink out for a date.</p>
<p>I suggest that you throw yourself out of the nearest window as soon as possible.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>KIM KITSURAGI</strong> - He straightens up and walks towards you.</p>
<p>“So, when do you want to go on our date?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>PERCEPTION (HEARING)</strong> [Challenging: Failure] - He could <strong><em>not </em></strong>have possibly just asked you when you want to have your date with him.</p>
<p><strong>YOU</strong> - You stare at him dumbly.</p>
<p>“Pardon?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>KIM KITSURAGI</strong> - He moves past you and casually removes his gloves.</p>
<p><strong>VOLITION</strong> – Those gloves are both the bane and blessing of your existence. It’s an absolute shame that he keeps his gorgeous hands encased in those things, but if it weren’t for them, you’d be staring at his hands all day, imagining how it would feel to have his fingers curled around yours, and how his pulse would flutter when you kiss his wrist...</p>
<p><strong>ELECTROCHEMISTRY</strong> [Legendary: Failure] - Your scorching thoughts are promptly doused by the sound of running water.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>KIM KITSURAGI</strong> - “Do you want us to meet tomorrow after work? Or would you prefer the weekend?”</p>
<p><strong>RHETORIC</strong> [Godly: Success] - He’s asking about when you want to have your date with him.</p>
<p><strong>YOU</strong> - ...Oh. Okay.</p>
<p>A moment passes.</p>
<p>
  <strong>HE SAID YES???!!!!!????!!!!!????!!!!???!!!!</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>PERCEPTION (HEARING)</strong> - Scream that just a bit louder in your brain and Kim will probably hear it through your gaping mouth.</p>
<p><strong>YOU</strong> - Utterly shocked, you stare at Kim until he finishes washing his hands.</p>
<p><strong>KIM KITSURAGI</strong> - “The weekend works best for me." He uses his handkerchief to wipe his hands before putting his gloves back on. “But I’m also free on Friday night, if you prefer to meet up then—”</p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>REACTION SPEED</strong> [Medium: Success] - Don’t just stand there, <em>talk to him!!!!</em></p>
<p><strong>YOU</strong> - “The weekend’s fine!” You wince at how your voice echoes throughout the empty bathroom. “I mean. The weekend works for me too. Uh.”</p>
<p><strong>COMPOSURE</strong> [Challenging: Failure] - You're still flabbergasted that he actually said yes.</p>
<p><strong>KIM KITSURAGI </strong>- His lips curl into a small smile that that makes your heart explode.</p>
<p><strong>EMPATHY</strong> [Medium: Success] - The lieutenant is conveying a secret message through that smile…</p>
<p>But you’ll have to treat him to a fancy dinner before you can find out what that message is.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>YOU</strong> - “So. Dinner? On Saturday night?”</p>
<p><strong>KIM KITSURAGI </strong>- “Sounds like a plan. Do you already have a place in mind, or…?” He starts to walk out of the bathroom, and you trail after him like a love-struck puppy.</p>
<p><strong>YOU </strong>- Before you head out of the bathroom, you glance over your shoulder and take one last look at the sink-that-was-Kim.</p>
<p>Thanks, pal.</p>
<p><strong>SINK-THAT-WAS-KIM</strong> - No problem, buddy. Go get ‘im!</p>
<p><strong>YOU</strong> - And with that, you hurry after Kim and plan out the best night of your lives.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Friday</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s a fine Friday morning at Precinct 41, and Lt. Jean Vicquemare is about to pop a blood vessel out of sheer exasperation.</p><p>“Harry, I’ve said it twice and I’ll say it again: No, you may <em>not</em> borrow my car for your fancy date with Kim,” he growls out while glaring at the grovelling man in front of his desk.</p><p>Harry looks stricken. “But...But Jean---”</p><p>“You have a car, Harry. It’s in the <em>fucking ocean</em>, where you crashed it two months ago. So please forgive me for wanting to protect my car from a similar fate.”</p><p>Harry winces so violently that Jean actually feels a slight twinge of remorse for bringing up Harry’s apocalyptic bender again.</p><p>But the twinge is very slight, and Harry’s car is still very much stuck in the ocean.</p><p>So Jean decides that nothing—absolutely nothing—will make him change his mind.</p><p> </p><p>“Jean, please,” Harry says, his eyes wide and imploring. “I’ll do anything. I’ll shine your shoes; I’ll do your paperwork; I’ll even take on all your patrol hours for the whole month—”</p><p>Jean’s ears perk up.</p><p>“...The whole month?”</p><p> </p><p>Harry nods so fast that his head becomes a blur.</p><p>Jean leans back in his chair and thinks about it.</p><p> </p><p>Given the shortage of active personnel within the RCM, the Inspectorate General requires every officer from the rank of Lieutenant and below to take on at least 20 hours of patrol every week. Satellite Officers like Jean are no exception, and he spends a depressingly large amount of time not being able to do important things such as taking a nap, eating lunch, or taking a leisurely walk around the block because of those goddamned patrol hours.</p><p>And here’s Harry, offering to take that burden from Jean’s shoulders.</p><p>For a whole fucking <em>month</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly, it occurs to Jean that if Harry does fuck up his MC, then he can just ask his former partner to take on his patrol hours <em>for the entire year</em>, a thought that's so appealing that Jean finds himself secretly hoping that Harry will actually wreck his car somehow.</p><p>Meanwhile, Harry clasps his hands to his chest and wobbles his lower lip, and Jean has to exert a considerable amount of willpower to stop himself from clobbering his former partner.</p><p>He sighs. “Okay, shitkid. You can pick up my car tomorrow. Six PM. My place.”</p><p>Harry jumps into the air and whoops for joy. Then, he jogs over to Jean’s desk and—</p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    
  </p>
</div><p> </p><p>Jean smashes a palm into Harry’s face before Harry can hug him.</p><p>“Patrol hours for one whole month."</p><p>With his face still smooshed against Jean’s hand, Harry nods vigorously.</p><p>“And if you wreck my car, patrol hours for the whole <em>year."</em> Jean mashes his hand into Harry’s face a bit harder.</p><p>Harry nods again and mumbles something that sounds like, “Thanks Jean, you’re the best,” against his palm.</p><p>“You bet I am. Now make sure you bring it back in one piece, shitkid.” Jean pushes Harry’s head away. “And don’t you <em>dare </em>make out with Kitsuragi in my damn car, you hear?”</p><p>Harry’s face turns a brilliant shade of red, and Jean instantly regrets giving him that idea.</p><p> </p><p>When Harry finally leaves his office, Jean massages the bridge of his nose and wonders if he just made the right decision.</p><p>Then, he remembers the joy on Harry’s face and the hope that glimmered in his former partner’s eyes when he said yes...</p><p>“Ah, fuck it.” Jean smiles at his empty office. “Good luck on your date, Mullen.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Saturday</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p><strong>YOU</strong> - Alright, gentlemen.</p><p>What the <em>hell </em>are we going to wear to this date.</p><p><strong>PERCEPTION (SIGHT)</strong> - Clad only in an undershirt and a pair of boxers, you’re standing in the middle of the minor disaster zone known of your bedroom, where you’ve laid out all of your clothes on every available surface—the floor, the bed, the bedside table, the desk…</p><p><strong>LOGIC</strong> - This is the first time that you’ve had to come face-to-face with the baffling amount of clothing that you’ve managed to accumulate over the years, and it’s frankly overwhelming.</p><p><strong>VISUAL CALCULUS</strong> [Formidable: Success] - You own at least 46 accessories and 154 articles of clothing—30 shirts, 24 jackets or blazers, 32 pairs of pants, 68 various pieces of underwear including undershirts, socks, boxers, and briefs, and inexplicably, a full-body dinosaur costume.</p><p><strong>YOU</strong> - You look at the inflatable T-rex costume that’s flopped over the back of an armchair.</p><p>Why do I own this thing again?</p><p> </p><p><strong>ESPRIT DE CORPS </strong>- THE DREADFUL CLOWNS case. A syndicate of robbers who set up a fraudulent party-organizing company was targeting wealthy households in Grand Couron. Their modus operandi was to set up children’s parties and, while the audience was distracted by the goons disguised as clowns, the rest of the syndicate would go around the house stealing the family’s valuables. The dinosaur costume allowed you to infiltrate one such party as the made-up mascot, Terry the T-Rex, and you were finally able to apprehend the perps using that clever disguise.</p><p><strong>PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT</strong> - You ran pretty fast for a grown man stuck in an inflatable dinosaur costume. Those goons didn’t know what hit them!</p><p><strong>AUTHORITY</strong> - Nothing puts the fear of the law into criminal elements more than being chased around by a six-foot-tall T-rex in the middle of a cheering crowd of children.</p><p>That case remains to be one of the highlights of your career.</p><p> </p><p><strong>YOU </strong>- That’s great, but I’m definitely not wearing that tonight.</p><p><strong>ELECTROCHEMISTRY </strong>- But you might as well keep it. In case Kim has... unique tastes in bed.</p><p><strong>YOU</strong> - You’re so mortified (and strangely aroused) by this thought that you quickly throw the dinosaur costume into your now-empty closet and slam the doors shut.</p><p>Okay, back to my original question: What should I wear tonight???</p><p> </p><p><strong>VISUAL CALCULUS</strong> - It is currently 2 PM, which means that you have four hours before you have to pick up Jean’s car, buy your gift for Kim, and head to Kim’s apartment.</p><p><strong>LOGIC</strong> - Four hours is a lot of time! You can do this!</p><p> </p><p><strong>YOU </strong>- Nodding to yourself, you start mixing and matching outfits to see if any of them would work.</p><p><strong>PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT</strong> - No, those pants make you look fat.</p><p><strong>CONCEPTUALIZATION</strong> - Try that green shirt on! It’ll bring out the green of your eyes.</p><p><strong>ELECTROCHEMISTRY</strong> - Oh, mesh shirt!!! Dragon kimono!!!!!!!</p><p><strong>VOLITION</strong> [Legendary: Success] - You’ll get thrown out of the restaurant for public indecency if you wear those, so please ignore that suggestion.</p><p><strong>SAVOIR FAIRE</strong> - That bolo tie always makes you look so cool. Put it on!</p><p><strong>LOGIC</strong> - It doesn't make any sense to wear a jacket over a blazer. Take those off.</p><p><strong>PERCEPTION (SIGHT)</strong> - Dude, those socks don't match each other. Find their pairs!</p><p><strong>INTERFACING</strong> - If you wear those gloves, you won't be able to grip the steering wheel properly.</p><p><strong>HALF-LIGHT</strong> - If you wear those sunglasses, you won't be able to spot anyone who might sneak up behind you on the street.</p><p><strong>DRAMA</strong> - That tuxedo is impeccable. However, you might want to swap out your rubber shoes for a different pair of footwear.</p><p> </p><p><strong>YOU</strong> - Two hours later, you find yourself still standing in the middle of your room, still only clad in your undershirt and boxers, and still absolutely clueless as to what you’re supposed to wear to your date with Kim.</p><p><strong>COMPOSURE</strong> [Legendary: Failure] – You stare at the small mountain of rejected clothing at the foot of your bed in terror.</p><p><strong>YOU</strong> - <em>We're running out of time</em>!!!!!!!</p><p><strong>ELECTROCHEMISTRY</strong> - If all else fails, you could just put on a bowtie and go in your undies—</p><p><strong>SAVOIR FAIRE</strong> - NO! Absolutely not!!!</p><p><strong>HALF-LIGHT</strong> [Trivial: Success] - You won't make it in time. You won't look good enough for Kim. You're going to mess up this date spectacularly, just like how you mess <em>everything</em> up—</p><p><strong>AUTHORITY</strong> [Challenging: Success] - Don't be silly. You're a grown man, and a decorated detective, no less. You should be able to dress yourself up properly without much trouble.</p><p><strong>HALF-LIGHT</strong> [Trivial: Success] - But you've wasted too much time, you still have no idea what to wear, there are just too many options to choose from—</p><p> </p><p><strong>COMPOSURE</strong> [Legendary: Success] - Okay. Let's take a step back here. Take a deep breath.</p><p><strong>YOU</strong> - You take a deep breath.</p><p><strong>LOGIC</strong> [Legendary: Success] - Excellent. Now, think about it—</p><p>If Kim were here, what outfit would he choose for you?</p><p> </p><p><strong>YOU</strong> - You blink in surprise.</p><p>That's...</p><p><strong>ESPRIT DE CORPS</strong> [Easy: Success] - That's an excellent question.</p><p> </p><p><strong>COMPOSURE</strong> [Legendary: Success] - As always, the mere thought of Kim's presence is enough to calm you down.</p><p><strong>ESPRIT DE CORPS</strong> [Easy: Success] – If Lt. Kitsuragi were here, he’d carefully pick through the pile of clothing at your feet and take out a plain white undershirt.</p><p>"Put this on, Detective. You can pair it up with that sweater over there." He points to the creamy-latte sweater by the foot of your bed.</p><p><strong>YOU</strong> - You quickly put on the shirt and the sweater.</p><p> </p><p><strong>ESPRIT DE CORPS</strong> [Easy: Success] - Kim taps his chin thoughtfully and nods in approval. "Alright, now get those jeans by your pillow."</p><p><strong>YOU</strong> - You grab that pair of jeans and put them on.</p><p><strong>PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT</strong> - Huh. Can't believe they still fit you even after all these extra pounds.</p><p> </p><p><strong>ESPRIT DE CORPS</strong> [Easy: Success] - He smiles. "You look good, Harry."</p><p><strong>YOU</strong> - You scratch your nape sheepishly. "Thanks, Kim. What about accessories? I could just wear my necktie---"</p><p><strong>ESPRIT DE CORPS</strong> [Easy: Success] - "No," he says firmly. "No neckties. They wouldn't go well with your sweater."</p><p>He looks around the room for a moment. Then, his eyes light up.</p><p>"Try this one on." He walks over to your desk and holds up a simple, but elegant, flannel bowtie.</p><p><strong>YOU</strong> - You put on the bowtie.</p><p><strong>HANDSOME BOWTIE</strong> - Nice to meet you, sir! I'm sure we'll get along famously!</p><p> </p><p><strong>ESPRIT DE CORPS</strong> [Easy: Success] - "And finally." He pads over to your shoe rack. "These brown shoes."</p><p><strong>YOU</strong> - You walk to his side and put the shoes on.</p><p> </p><p><strong>ESPRIT DE CORPS</strong> [Easy: Success] - He sweeps his gaze over you from head-to-toe, and you can't help but preen under his attention.</p><p>"I think you're ready," he says, with a proud look in his eyes.</p><p>Then, he reaches up, and his fingers gently brush against your cheek...</p><p>“I’ll see you tonight, Harry."</p><p> </p><p><strong>PERCEPTION (SIGHT)</strong> [Trivial: Success] - And just like that, you’re standing alone again in the middle of your room, now fully dressed to the nines.</p><p><strong>YOU</strong> - You smile fondly at the empty air in front of you.</p><p>"Yeah," you murmur. "I'll see you tonight, Kim."</p><p> </p><p><strong>LOGIC</strong> - Excellent. You still have an hour left before you need to leave.</p><p><strong>SAVOIR FAIRE</strong> - Give yourself another look-over in the bathroom mirror. Fix your hair. Trim your moustache.</p><p><strong>PERCEPTION (SMELL)</strong> - And don’t forget to put on some deodorant, cologne, and aftershave! The last thing you want is to turn off Kim with your body odor.</p><p><strong>PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT</strong> - But having body odor is the pinnacle of manhood!!! You have to impress him with your potent masculinity!</p><p><strong>PERCEPTION (SMELL)</strong> - But you won't have the chance to impress him if he chooses to stay six feet away from you because of the potency of your masculinity.</p><p> </p><p><strong>COMPOSURE </strong>- Butterflies flutter in your stomach as you hum a happy tune under your breath and make your way to the bathroom.</p><p><strong>YOU</strong> - I have a good feeling about tonight, everyone.</p><p> </p><p><strong>ESPRIT DE CORPS </strong>[Formidable: Success] - In a nondescript apartment block in Central Jamrock, Lt. Kim Kitsuragi looks at himself in the mirror and seems satisfied by what he sees.</p><p>He has a good feeling about tonight too.</p><p>And he absolutely cannot wait to see you.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Saturday Night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>In a small, spartan apartment in Central Jamrock, just a few miles away from domed husk of the old silk mill, Kim Kitsuragi—driver, lieutenant, and secret speedfreak-slash-badass—checks himself in the mirror for the third time in the past hour. </p><p>It's already 17:40, which means that he only has twenty more minutes before Harry arrives. Assuming, of course, that his partner arrives on time... </p><p> </p><p>He rotates the angel-wing pin on his lapel two degrees to the right.</p><p>But Harry's punctuality isn't within his control. Neither is the passage of time, which is crawling by so slowly right now that every minute feels like an eternity. </p><p> </p><p>He twists the pin again, this time six degrees to the left.</p><p>Given all of this, he should just sit back, relax, and trust that Harry won't leave him hanging tonight... </p><p> </p><p>Kim examines his reflection. </p><p>Then, he frowns, removes the pin, and attaches it to his other lapel.</p><p> </p><p>If someone had told him four months ago that he’d end up going on a date with Harry Du Bois, Kim would have raised an eyebrow, turned on his heel, and walked away. After all, when they’d first met at the Whirling-in-Rags, Harry had swaggered up to him reeking of booze, piss, and vomit. A few hours later, Harry kicked an innocent mailbox and almost had a heart attack. The day after that, he tried to steal a four-reál raincoat from Frittte, right in front of Kim and the clerk. And even before they'd met, he’d pawned off his gun, lost his badge, and crashed his motor carriage, which—as far as Kim knows—is still half-submerged in the ocean right now.</p><p>But after walking a few paces, Kim would have paused and remembered the other things about Harry. Like how he shot down the hanged corpse on his first try. Or how his eyes lit up with childlike wonder as he listened to Lena talk about cryptids. Or how he pulled rank on Kim just so they could dance their hearts out in the middle of an abandoned church. Or how he saved Kim’s life, even as he lay bleeding on the ground with a bullet lodged in his thigh...</p><p>And once he’d remembered all of that, Kim would inevitably end up where he is right now—standing in front of his bathroom mirror, dressed in his best suit, marveling at how one man can be so broken and yet so wonderful at the same time.</p><p> </p><p>He looks at the mirror again. The man who looks back appears perfectly composed—gaze steady, chin high, shoulders squared. Which makes sense, since he’s not nervous at all.</p><p>He takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out.</p><p>Yes, he thinks, ignoring the wild hammering of his heart. Not nervous at all.</p><p> </p><p>Satisfied with his appearance (for now), Kim glances at his watch. Fifteen minutes before 18:00. More than enough time to relax and enjoy himself before Harry arrives.</p><p>He heads for the living room and starts pacing around—calmly, of course—to pass the time. It’ll take him around a minute to get to the ground floor, if he takes the lift. Three minutes, if he takes the stairs.</p><p>He’ll try the lifts first, he decides. Then, if he ends up waiting for more than twenty seconds, he’ll take the stairs—</p><p> </p><p>He stops pacing and checks his watch again.</p><p>Fourteen minutes left.</p><p>He sighs.</p><p> </p><p>Okay. So maybe he’s just a <em>little</em> bit nervous.</p><p>...Which is perfectly normal to feel before a date, Kim assures himself, blazing a trail through his living room carpet once again. In fact, he has more reasons to be nervous than other people, given Harry’s...quirks. For all he knows, Harry might show up at his doorstep tonight wearing nothing but that tacky frog visor. Or that mesh shirt. Or that dragon kimono. Or—Dolores forbid—some lurid combination of all three.</p><p>He stifles a shudder.</p><p> </p><p>And then there’s the question of where they’ll be having dinner tonight. Harry had insisted on keeping it a secret from him, and Kim had relented, though he cannot, for the life of him, remember why. He should’ve at least asked Harry whether they were going to eat at a fancy restaurant, which was something he’d assumed while choosing this outfit—a well-tailored black suit over a sleek, equally-black turtleneck, accentuated by a silver chain necklace and the angel-wing pin that his friend, Alice DeMettrie, had given to him before he left the 57<sup>th</sup>.</p><p>In other words, Kim had dressed to impress—and maybe, if he was a bit more honest with himself, to<em> seduce</em>—so it would be very awkward indeed if it turns out that Harry had set his sights on a romantic dinner date at Kuklov’s kebab stall down by the market.</p><p>As he continues to pace around his living room, Kim’s mind begins to concoct the most ridiculous—yet plausible—outfit and restaurant combinations that Harry could possibly come up with. Harry, clad in a full set of Fairweather T-500 ceramic armor, bringing him to a Mesque cantina in Villalobos. Harry, dressed from head to toe in FALN merchandise, serenading him with disco songs in the middle of a Frittte. Harry—</p><p> </p><p>The flaming trainwreck of his thoughts is suddenly extinguished by the buzzing of the intercom.</p><p>Startled, Kim glances at his watch.</p><p>“Shit,” he hisses.</p><p> </p><p>The intercom buzzes again.</p><p>“Kim?” Harry’s unmistakable voice filters through the static. “It’s me.” A pregnant pause. Then, “Harry,” he adds, helpfully.</p><p> </p><p>Kim succeeds in not chuckling.</p><p>But he fails miserably in not smiling.</p><p> </p><p>He walks over to the intercom and presses a button.</p><p>“I’ll be right there, Harry. Give me five minutes.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay,” His partner says, and Kim can practically <em>hear</em> the shaky smile on his face. “I’ll just. Wait right here then.”</p><p>The intercom falls into an awkward silence.</p><p> </p><p>Still smiling, Kim shakes his head. Look at them—two decorated police officers, both well in their forties, acting like nervous high schoolers about to go on their first date...</p><p>He sighs. Ah well.</p><p>Time to find out what Harry’s actually wearing tonight.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p><strong>YOU</strong> – It’s five minutes after 18:00, and you’re standing on the curb outside of Kim’s apartment, trying not to look like you’re on the verge of a nervous breakdown.</p><p><strong>COMPOSURE</strong> [Legendary: Failure] – Your stomach’s a churning disco ball in your belly. Your heart’s a drummer on speed. Your bowtie’s a garrote around your neck—</p><p><strong>HANDSOME BOWTIE</strong> – Whoops! Sorry Mister, all this suspense is killing me!</p><p>The bowtie promptly relinquishes its chokehold on your windpipe.</p><p> </p><p><strong>PAIN THRESHOLD</strong> – Air!!! Sweet, blessed, polluted air!!!!</p><p><strong>HALF-LIGHT</strong> [Medium: Success] – Good news and bad news, buddy. Good news is, some of that anxiety was due to oxygen deprivation. The bad news is <em>this is all a terrible, terrible mistake and you should run away while you still can—</em></p><p><strong>SAVOIR FAIRE</strong> – Don’t listen to that killjoy. You’re totally fine! You look good, you smell good, and you <em>feel </em>good.</p><p><strong>ENDURANCE </strong>[Legendary: Failure] – Actually, your heart’s about to implode from sheer stress.</p><p>But at least you look good and smell good.</p><p>
  
</p><p><strong>YOU</strong> – You sniff yourself discreetly to confirm that you do, in fact, smell better than usual.</p><p><strong>PERCEPTION (SMELL)</strong> [Formidable: Success] – <em>MontBleu pour Homme</em>, a oakmoss-leather concoction with top notes of bergamot and sage.</p><p><strong>YOU </strong>– It smells great. But what if Kim doesn't like it?</p><p><strong>SAVOIR FAIRE</strong> – Given that your usual <em>eau de toilette</em> is sweat and kebab sauce, I’d say the lieutenant will definitely approve of your choice of cologne.</p><p> </p><p><strong>ELECTROCHEMISTRY </strong>– The real question is: What will <em>he</em> smell like?</p><p><strong>PERCEPTION (SMELL)</strong> – Soap, usually. With just a hint of tobacco and motor oil.</p><p><strong>ELECTROCHEMISTRY</strong> – Don’t be a boring fuck! Use your <em>imagination, </em>baby!</p><p>Close your eyes. Bury your face in the hollow of his neck. Press your lips against the curve of his jaw.</p><p>Now <em>breathe</em>...</p><p> </p><p><strong>YOU</strong> – You close your eyes and inhale...</p><p><strong>PERCEPTION (SMELL)</strong> [Formidable: Success] – Peppercorn. Citrus. Incense.</p><p><strong>ELECTROCHEMISTRY</strong> – Static crackles over his skin. You leave a trail of kisses on his throat until your mouth comes to rest right above his pulse. He shivers, and gasps into your ear—</p><p> </p><p><strong>KIM KITSURAGI</strong> – “Sorry to keep you waiting, Harry.”</p><p><strong>ELECTROCHEMISTRY</strong> [Heroic: Failure] – What??? Come on, baby! You can do better than that!!!</p><p><strong>PERCEPTION (HEARING)</strong> [Easy: Success] – No, you can’t, because that’s really what Kim said just now.</p><p>
  
</p><p><strong>YOU</strong> – You open your eyes.</p><p> </p><p><strong>ELECTROCHEMISTRY </strong>– Holy.</p><p>Fucking.</p><p>
  <em>Shit.</em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>When Kim had stepped out of his apartment into the cool evening, he thought that he was more than ready to face any outfit that Harry might have chosen to wear tonight.</p><p>But now, as the seconds tick by without him being about to take his eyes off his partner, Kim realizes that he was deeply, but pleasantly, mistaken.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p><strong>YOU</strong> – You’re distantly aware that your mouth is hanging open.</p><p><strong>HANDSOME BOWTIE</strong> – Hey, mister! Don’t just stand there. Say something!!!</p><p>
  
</p><p><strong>YOU</strong> – You gulp.</p><p>“Hey, Kim. You look—”</p><p><strong>DRAMA</strong> – Captivating.</p><p><strong>SAVOIR FAIRE</strong> – Striking.</p><p><strong>ELECTROCHEMISTRY</strong> – Ravishing.</p><p><strong>YOU</strong> – “—nice.”</p><p> </p><p><strong>SAVOIR FAIRE</strong> [Legendary: Failure] – On behalf of all the voices in your head, we would like to inform you of our immediate and collective resignation.</p><p><strong>YOU</strong> – What??? Why???</p><p><strong>ELECTROCHEMISTRY</strong> – Because you’re a stupid-ass fuck who will never, <em>ever</em> get laid, that’s why!!!</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Harry’s compliment kick-starts Kim’s brain.</p><p>“Oh. Thank you,” he says, as if waking up from a dream. A dream where Harry is standing in front of him, dressed in clean, stylish clothes, looking clear-eyed and healthy and whole...</p><p><em>How far we’ve come</em>, he thinks to himself, remembering the lost and broken man who stood in front of him in Martinaise.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p><strong>KIM KITSURAGI</strong> – He smiles. “You look nice too, Harry.”</p><p><strong>DRAMA</strong> – The dear lieutenant speaks true, sire.</p><p><strong>YOU</strong> – Really? He...really means it?</p><p><strong>DRAMA</strong> – Excuse me, friends. Would it be too late for me to join that mass resignation—</p><p><strong>YOU</strong> – Okay, okay! I believe you!!!</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Harry flushes and scratches his nape.</p><p>“Thanks. Took me three hours to find something to wear, if you can believe it.”</p><p>The image of a bewildered, half-naked Harry standing in the middle of his bedroom surrounded by the mountain of clothes that he’s collected over the years appears in startling clarity in Kim’s mind.</p><p>“I believe you,” he says. Then, “To be honest, I was worried that you were going to wear the Fairweather armor to our date.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry winces. “Would you have preferred that? I could’ve worn it under my clothes—”</p><p>“No,” Kim says, already regretting what he just said. “It was just a...thought experiment,” he finishes lamely.</p><p>His partner relaxes, and Kim takes a moment to appreciate how Harry’s sweater accentuates the width of his shoulders and the girth of his arms...</p><p> </p><p>He clears his throat.</p><p>“So, where are we going tonight?”</p><p> </p><p>"Sorry, lieutenant." Harry's tone is somber, but his eyes glint with mischief. "That’s top-secret information reserved only for the highest echelons of RCM leadership—”</p><p>Kim rolls his eyes, but he smiles nonetheless.</p><p>“—though,” his partner's voice turns into a conspiratorial whisper. “I <em>might</em> be willing to disclose it to you.” He waggles his eyebrows. "For a price.”</p><p> </p><p>Kim decides to play along.</p><p>"And what, pray tell, would that price be, Detective?”</p><p> </p><p>In response, Harry just winks and taps his own cheek.</p><p>Kim pretends to think about it.</p><p>Then, he takes one step forward, stands on his tiptoes, and pays the price.</p><p> </p><p>“There.” He steps back and looks at his partner’s crimson face with smug satisfaction. “You’ve gotten your bribe, officer. Now, where are we having dinner?”</p><p>Harry stares at him like a man whose soul has been temporarily ejected out of his body.</p><p>Then, just as Kim is starting to worry that he might have caused his date to have a stroke, Harry blurts out, “Grand Couron. I got us a table at Chez Alexandre.”</p><p> </p><p>This time, it’s Kim’s turn to stare.</p><p>“Chez Alexandre?” he repeats. “The four-star restaurant at Morris Avenue?”</p><p>Harry nods, and Kim becomes acutely aware of how light his wallet feels in his pocket right now.</p><p>“Harry,” he says, in a slow, steady voice that’s tinged with disbelief. “A meal at that restaurant costs half of our monthly pay.”</p><p>“I know.” Harry crosses his arms. “But I’ve saved up more than enough money to pay for tonight, since I’ve stopped buying booze and...all the other stuff,” he says sheepishly.</p><p> </p><p>Knowing that Harry’s going to pay for their date using money that he could have used to buy alcohol and drugs is almost too much for Kim to bear. So much so that he has to thrust his hands into his pockets before they could do something stupid. </p><p>Like pull Harry into a hug, for example.</p><p> </p><p>“We could split the bill, you know,” he says. “I don’t want you to use up all your savings on our first date.”</p><p>It occurs to him that he said “first date.” Which implies that he’s willing to have a second. Maybe even a third.</p><p> </p><p>Harry doesn't seem to notice this, thankfully. Instead, he just squares his shoulders and raises his chin. “It's kind of you to offer, Kim. But no—I’ll take care of everything tonight.”</p><p>Pride, Kim realizes with mute wonder. This is a matter of pride for him.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright," he says, both out of respect and fond admiration. "But just so you know, I’m dead set on ordering the cheapest things on the menu.”</p><p>Harry chuckles. “You’re the only person I know who wouldn’t take advantage of a free dinner, Kim.”</p><p>“If there’s one thing I’ve learned on the force, Detective, it’s that there’s no such thing as a free dinner,” Kim says, smirking. “Someone always ends up paying, in the end.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wise words to live by.” With a gallant bow, Harry gestures towards a familiar-looking Coupris ’40 parked by the curb. “Now, if the gentleman would head this way...”</p><p>“Isn’t that Jean’s car?”</p><p>“Yeah. I asked him if I could borrow it for tonight, since...you know."</p><p>Kim nods, the memory of a half-drowned motor carriage still fresh in his mind.</p><p> </p><p>Meanwhile, Harry fidgets with the car keys and gives him a sidelong glance. “Do you, uh...”</p><p>Kim glances at the keys. On the one hand, Harry’s managed to drive himself here without any incident, which is a pretty good sign. On the other hand, Kim is obviously the better driver of the two of them, and he's never, <em>ever</em> let anyone drive him if he could help it...</p><p>As he continues to ponder this dilemma, Harry looks down and scuffs his shoe on the pavement. A child, bracing himself for inevitable rejection...</p><p> </p><p>Kim sighs. </p><p>
  <em>Ah, fuck it.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, Harry,” he says, desperately hoping that he won’t end up regretting this decision. “You can drive us tonight.”</p><p> </p><p>His partner looks stunned.</p><p>“Are...are you sure?”</p><p> </p><p>Kim arcs an eyebrow.</p><p>“Okay.” Harry gulps. ”I’ll, uh. Do my best. Oh wait, I almost forgot—”</p><p>He turns around and gets something from the passenger seat of the motor carriage. </p><p> </p><p>“For you,” Harry says, whipping out the largest bouquet that Kim has ever seen in his life. It’s a miniature explosion of fragrance and color—yellow roses, fading to red at the tips; elegant, white freesias; joyful clusters of forget-me-nots...</p><p> </p><p>Kim stares at the bouquet.</p><p>Then, he looks at Harry’s face, and wonders what the hell he’s done in his life to deserve such a gift.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you.” He swallows thickly. “I...”</p><p>Harry extends the bouquet towards him, leaving Kim no choice but to carefully take it in his arms. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s beautiful.” He runs his fingers through the flowers before glancing away, abashed. "I’m sorry. I should've gotten a gift for you too—”</p><p>Harry frowns. “A gift? But you’ve already given me one, Kim.”</p><p> </p><p>Before Kim can ask him what that means, Harry reaches out and takes his hand.  </p><p>“You agreed to go out with me tonight," Harry says, twining their fingers together. “Can’t think of a better gift than that.”</p><p> </p><p>Kim's ears promptly turn into twin furnaces on either side of his head. </p><p><em>Holy Dolores</em>, he thinks to himself. <em>We haven’t even left for the restaurant yet...</em></p><p> </p><p>“Come on, lieutenant.” Still holding his hand, Harry grins and gently tugs him towards the car. “Time for us to get some fancy grub.”</p><p> </p><p>Kim smiles.</p><p>“Alright.” He squeezes Harry’s hand. “Let’s go, Detective.”</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sometimes, the perfect scene comes to your mind four months after you start writing a fic. </p><p>Thank you for your patience, everyone! And rest assured that this fic should be finished within the next few weeks. XD</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Saturday Night Fever (Part One)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p><strong>ENCYCLOPEDIA</strong> – The Chez Alexandre is a four-star restaurant located at the heart of Jamrock’s business district. A popular dinner spot among the Revacholian elite, it’s best known for its avant-garde approach to Vespertine cuisine and its prohibitively expensive menu.</p><p><strong>RHETORIC</strong> – “Prohibitively expensive," meaning you'll have to collect tare every night for the next two years if you ever want to eat here again. </p><p><strong>CONCEPTUALIZATION</strong> [Easy: Success] – If the menu in your hands were a person, light would be bending around them.</p><p><strong>LOGIC</strong> [Easy: Success] – Hm. That would explain why you can’t read what’s on this damn thing.</p><p> </p><p><strong>PERCEPTION (SIGHT)</strong> [Legendary: Failure] – You’ve been staring at the menu for the past five minutes. But instead of normal words, all you see is a swirling fondue of letters and numbers.</p><p><strong>AUTHORITY</strong> – Don't let this infernal booklet push you around! Command it to speak to you in proper Suresne!</p><p><strong>YOU</strong> – You narrow your eyes and glare at the menu until sweat drips down your face.</p><p><strong>SUGGESTION</strong> [Legendary: Failure] – But it refuses to yield to your indigent gaze.</p><p><strong>YOU</strong> – Hold on, are you telling me that I’m too <em>poor </em>to read this???</p><p><strong>OVERPRICED MENU</strong> – Your annual income must be 50,000 real and above before your occipital cortex can process the visual information printed upon these pages.</p><p> </p><p><strong>YOU</strong> – Shit. I wonder how Kim’s doing...</p><p><strong>KIM KITSURAGI</strong> – The lieutenant is looking at his menu with casual indifference.</p><p><b>COMPOSURE </b>[Formidable: Success] – A bit <em>too</em> casual, in fact.</p><p><strong>EMPATHY</strong> [Medium: Success] – He’s just as baffled as you are.</p><p><strong>VOLITION</strong> [Medium: Success] – Not that he’s ever going to admit it to anyone.</p><p><strong>LOGIC</strong> – At this rate, you’re both going to starve to death. Call for help!</p><p> </p><p><strong>YOU</strong> – You raise your hand like a drowning man politely asking for a life preserver.</p><p><strong>LEONARD, THE WAITER</strong> – “How may I assist you, gentlemen?”</p><p><strong>HALF-LIGHT</strong> [Easy: Success] – <em>Holy shit</em>—!!!</p><p><strong>VOLITION</strong> [Challenging: Success] – Calm down. It’s just a waiter who suddenly appeared out of thin air.</p><p><strong>COMPOSURE</strong> [Heroic: Failure] – You may or may not have pissed yourself a little. But no one has to know that.</p><p> </p><p><strong>LEONARD, THE WAITER</strong> – A tall, lean man dressed in a black tailcoat stands at attention beside you. The brass nametag on his chest reads, “LEONARD” in small, engraved script.</p><p> </p><p><strong>YOU</strong> – “Hello, Leonard—”</p><p><strong>RHETORIC</strong> – Yes, use his first name. Always good to establish rapport with the proletariat.</p><p><b>SUGGESTION</b> [Medium: Success] – Now ask him to tell you what to eat, but do it in a<em> classy</em> way. He doesn't need to know that you’re dirt poor.</p><p> </p><p><strong>YOU</strong> – “—we were wondering if you could give us your recommendations? It’s our first time to dine in this fine establishment, you see.”</p><p><strong>DRAMA</strong> [Challenging: Success] – Excellent, sire. The <em>garçon</em> remains clueless about your abject poverty.</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI</b> – Across from you, the lieutenant watches your exchange with amusement.</p><p><strong>EMPATHY</strong> [Easy: Success] – He’s relieved that you called for help. It saves him from the embarrassment of admitting that he couldn’t read the menu either.</p><p> </p><p><strong>LEONARD, THE WAITER</strong> – He clears his throat and stands up straighter.</p><p>“For your appetizer, I recommend the Gazpacho á la Mireille with mint, which will pair up nicely with a main course of herb-crusted lamb, as well as a chilled bottle of Chateau Latour ’35, a full-bodied red with notes of blackcurrant and cherry—”</p><p><b>YOU</b> – Good god, he’s just as bad as that damned menu!</p><p><strong>RHETORIC</strong> [Legendary: Failure] – Every now and then, an intelligible word like “the” or “and” bobs to the surface, only to be dragged under once again by the roaring tide of culinary recommendations.</p><p><strong>VOLITION</strong> [Heroic: Failure] – This is hopeless. You might as well just tune out and stare at the lieutenant instead.</p><p> </p><p><strong>YOU</strong> – You discreetly glance at Kim.</p><p><strong>KIM KITSURAGI</strong> - He seems to be listening intently to the waiter.</p><p><strong>ESPRIT DE CORPS</strong> [Medium: Success] - If the lieutenant had his notebook with him, he'd be scribbling in it right now. </p><p><strong>CONCEPTUALIZATION</strong> - He looks ethereal, sitting there across from you, with candlelight flickering off his glasses and casting a golden glow on his face.</p><p><strong>VOLITION</strong> - You could spend all night just staring at him.</p><p><strong>ELECTROCHEMISTRY</strong> - Staring's for lovestruck pansies! You should <em>at least</em> get to first base tonight.</p><p> </p><p><strong>YOU</strong> - Compelled by that thought, your eyes drift down to Kim's mouth...</p><p><strong>PERCEPTION</strong> - He'll taste like chestnuts and cigarettes, I bet. </p><p><strong>ELECTROCHEMISTRY</strong> - You'll take your sweet time, of course. Start off slow, press a few kisses at the corner of his mouth before diving in and--</p><p> </p><p><strong>KIM KITSURAGI</strong> - "That sounds delicious. What do you think, Harry?"</p><p><strong>REACTION SPEED</strong> [Formidable: Failure] - Uh oh. </p><p><strong>SUGGESTION</strong> [Heroic: Success] - Quick! Give him a safe answer!</p><p><strong>YOU</strong> - "Yeah. That sounds great."</p><p><strong>RHETORIC</strong> [Heroic: Failure] - You have no idea what you just said yes to.</p><p><strong>LOGIC</strong> [Medium: Success] - But if Kim said that it sounds delicious, then it <em>must</em> be true!</p><p> </p><p><strong>LEONARD, THE WAITER</strong> - "Excellent choice, gentlemen. I'll be back shortly with your wine and hors d’oeuvres." </p><p>He plucks your menus from your grubby hands and excuses himself with a bow.</p><p><strong>ELECTROCHEMISTRY</strong> - Wait, wine? Did he just say wine???</p><p><strong>REACTION SPEED</strong> [Easy: Success] - Yes, he did.</p><p><strong>SUGGESTION -</strong> Perfect! Nothing like a fine red to loosen you up for a night of fun with the lieutenant. </p><p><strong>COMPOSURE</strong> - If anyone needs to loosen up around here, it's definitely Kim. </p><p><strong>ELECTROCHEMISTRY</strong> - Ohohoho, we’ll take care of<em> that</em>! Won’t we, buddy?</p><p><strong>HAND/EYE COORDINATION</strong> - You betcha!</p><p> </p><p><strong>RHETORIC</strong> [Easy: Success] - Speaking of Kim, you might want to strike up some small talk while waiting for your food to arrive.</p><p><strong>SUGGESTION</strong> - Luckily, you have plenty of topics to choose from. Starting with--</p><p><strong>YOU</strong> - "So. What the hell did we just order?"</p><p><strong>KIM KITSURAGI</strong> - He looks at you, alarmed.</p><p>"Wait, you weren't listening either?"</p><p> </p><p><b>COMPOSURE</b> [Formidable: Failure] - Your heart stops beating. The lieutenant's words echo through your skull once. Twice. Thrice...</p><p><strong>HALF-LIGHT</strong> [Easy: Success] - A tiny spark of panic erupts in the middle of your forebrain, and ignites a mushroom cloud of hysteria--</p><p><strong>REACTION SPEED</strong> [Challenging: Success] - Suddenly, a glimmer of mischief flashes in the lieutenant's eyes.</p><p><strong>RHETORIC</strong> [Challenging: Failure] - ...Oh.</p><p>Oh, he got you <em>good.</em> </p><p><strong>ENDURANCE</strong> [Heroic: Failure] - Tell him to tone down the humor a bit. Your heart won't be able to take another side-splitter like that. </p><p> </p><p><b>YOU - </b>"Holy shit, Kim--You fucking scared me!"</p><p><strong>PERCEPTION (SIGHT)</strong> [Formidable: Success] - The tiniest hint of a smile plays at the corner of the lieutenant's mouth. </p><p><strong>KIM KITSURAGI</strong> - "That's what you get for not paying attention."</p><p><strong>VOLITION</strong> [Heroic: Failure] - You <em>were</em> paying attention—</p><p><strong>ELECTROCHEMISTRY</strong> [Easy: Success] - To his mouth.</p><p> </p><p><strong>SUGGESTION</strong> [Medium: Success] - Take the honest route. He'll appreciate that.</p><p><strong>YOU</strong> - "Sorry. I got, uh. Distracted."</p><p><strong>ELECTROCHEMISTRY</strong> [Easy: Success] -<em> "By your mouth."</em></p><p><strong>SUGGESTION</strong> - Nope, <em>too</em> honest.</p><p><strong>COMPOSURE</strong> [Formidable: Success] - Judging from that knowing look in his eyes, the lieutenant is aware of what--or rather, <em>whom</em> you were distracted by.</p><p><strong>EMPATHY</strong> [Easy: Success] - He didn't mind it that much, to be honest. </p><p><strong>SAVOIR FAIRE</strong> [Easy: Success] - The lieutenant isn't used to being the center of attention. But he does enjoy the limelight every now and then.</p><p><strong>ELECTROCHEMISTRY</strong> [Easy: Success] - Especially when it's coming from you.</p><p> </p><p><strong>KIM KITSURAGI</strong> - "Don’t worry, I’ve got us covered.” He lists down your food on one hand. “Cucumber soup, lamb with potatoes, seared bass with greens, and crème brûlée for dessert.”</p><p><strong>ENDURANCE </strong>[Heroic: Failure] - Your empty stomach quivers with anticipation.</p><p><strong>PAIN THRESHOLD</strong> [Legendary: Failure] - You were too nervous to eat lunch today, so you're absolutely starving.</p><p><strong>KIM KITSURAGI</strong> – “We’re having some red wine, too. Though—” He frowns. “Maybe I should have gotten us something else...”</p><p><strong>RHETORIC</strong> [Easy: Success] – Something non-alcoholic, he means.</p><p> </p><p><strong>EMPATHY</strong> [Easy: Success] - The lieutenant's upset with himself. </p><p><strong>YOU</strong> - What? Why???</p><p><strong>LOGIC</strong> [Easy: Success] - Call it a hunch. But maybe it's because he ordered wine on a dinner date with a recovering alcoholic.</p><p><strong>ELECTROCHEMISTRY</strong> - No problemo! You'll just have one teensy-weensy bottle tonight--</p><p><strong>VOLITION</strong> [Heroic: Success] - One glass.</p><p><strong>ELECTROCHEMISTRY</strong> - ...Half a bottle?</p><p><strong>SUGGESTION</strong> - The lieutenant will never agree to make out with you if you get wasted tonight.</p><p><strong>VOLITION</strong> - So what'll it be: Booze or sex?</p><p><strong>ELECTROCHEMISTRY</strong> [Legendary: Failure] - ...Dammit, fine!!! One fucking glass! But you better get to third base!!!</p><p> </p><p><strong>SUGGESTION</strong> - Now that you have your priorities straight, reassure the lieutenant that you won't puke on your shoes tonight.</p><p><strong>YOU</strong> – “It’s okay, Kim. I’ll only have one glass, I promise.”</p><p><strong>SUGGESTION</strong> [Formidable: Success] – Good. Now cross your lungs and hope to die.</p><p><strong>YOU</strong> – You draw a giant X over your lungs and solemnly raise your right hand. </p><p>“Cross my lungs and hope to die.”</p><p><strong>COMPOSURE</strong> [Medium: Success] – The lieutenant still looks skeptical, but his face softens.</p><p><strong>KIM KITSURAGI</strong> – “Alright. But I hope you’re not expecting me to finish the whole bottle by myself...”</p><p><strong>DRAMA</strong> [Challenging: Success] - He's being coy, sire! Counter with a witty riposte!</p><p> </p><p><strong>YOU</strong> –  You clutch your chest with mock hurt.</p><p>“Why, lieutenant. I would<em> never</em> do such a thing!”</p><p><strong>DRAMA</strong> – That’s it, my liege! Let the purity of your intentions shine forth from your guileless soul!</p><p><strong>YOU</strong> – “Me? Plying you with drinks so that I can have my way with you tonight?” You shake your head solemnly. “Perish the thought.”</p><p> </p><p><strong>KIM KITSURAGI</strong> - A strange sound escapes his lips--something between a snort and a chuckle. He quickly covers his mouth. </p><p><b>PERCEPTION (SIGHT) </b>[Easy: Success] - That's the expression of a man who's trying very, very hard not to laugh.</p><p><strong>COMPOSURE</strong> [Easy: Success] - And those are the ears of a man who doesn't mind the idea of you having your way with him tonight as much as he thought he would.  </p><p> </p><p><strong>KIM KITSURAGI</strong> - The lieutenant clears his throat. "I'm not fond of liquor, so you're going to have to try something else if you--"</p><p>Suddenly, he stops. </p><p><strong>COMPOSURE</strong> [Challenging: Success] - His body goes rigid. His eyes zero in on something behind you... </p><p><strong>HALF-LIGHT</strong> [Easy: Success] - <em>Danger</em>. </p><p> </p><p><strong>YOU</strong> - "Kim? What is it?"</p><p><strong>KIM KITSURAGI</strong> - With exaggerated care, he looks away from you and takes a sip of water.</p><p>"Three men just came in," he murmurs, swirling his glass. "Black masks. Duffel bags."</p><p><strong>LOGIC</strong> [Easy: Success] - And judging from the look on the lieutenant's face, they're not here for a costume party. </p><p><strong>VOLITION</strong> [Formidable: Success] - Don't turn around. Keep your eyes on Kim.</p><p><strong>COMPOSURE</strong> [Formidable: Success] - Take deep breaths. Play it cool. </p><p> </p><p><strong>YOU</strong> - "Guns?"</p><p><strong>KIM KITSURAGI</strong> - He sets down his glass. "In the bags, most likely. They're--"</p><p>
  <em>BANG!</em>
</p><p><strong>MASKED ROBBER ONE</strong> - "THIS IS A ROBBERY! HANDS UP WHERE I CAN SEE 'EM!!!!"</p><p><strong>PERCEPTION –</strong> Another deafening gunshot. The room erupts in a cacophony of shrieks, screams, and shattering glass.</p><p> </p><p><strong>KIM KITSURAGI</strong> - In the blink of an eye, the lieutenant vanishes under the table.</p><p><strong>SAVOIR FAIRE</strong> - Great idea! Follow his lead!</p><p><strong>PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT</strong> - Hold on, grab a weapon first! Can't go into a gunfight with your bare fists, son!!!</p><p><strong>YOU</strong> - You hastily grab the first thing that you see and slip under the table too.</p><p> </p><p><strong>PERCEPTION (SIGHT)</strong> [Legendary: Failure] - Near-total darkness engulfs you immediately.</p><p><strong>SAVOIR FAIRE</strong> - It's a tight fit for two grown men. Your ass is literally sticking out of the tablecloth right now.</p><p><strong>ELECTROCHEMISTRY</strong> - And Kim is<em> right there</em>, his face inches away from your own, his warm breath gusting over your cheek--</p><p> </p><p><strong>KIM KITSURAGI</strong> - He coughs. Loudly.</p><p>"So what's our plan, Detective?"</p><p><strong>REACTION SPEED</strong> [Easy: Success] - "Detective", not "Harry." </p><p><strong>RHETORIC</strong> [Medium: Success] - Professionalism is his main coping mechanism for all sorts of inconvenient emotions. </p><p><strong>EMPATHY</strong> [Easy: Success] - Like embarrassment, for example.</p><p><strong>ELECTROCHEMISTRY</strong> [Easy: Success] - Or attraction. </p><p><strong>HALF-LIGHT</strong> [Easy: Success] - Or fear.</p><p> </p><p><strong>YOU</strong> - "Oh. Uh. Our plan. Hmmmm..."</p><p><strong>LOGIC</strong> [Formidable: Success] - One step at a time. What are your givens?</p><p><strong>YOU</strong> - "We're outnumbered, three to two."</p><p><strong>KIM KITSURAGI</strong> - He catches on quickly. "And we're outgunned. Unless...?"</p><p><strong>RHETORIC</strong> [Easy: Success] - ...unless you happen to have your gun with you, which you don't.</p><p><strong>PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT</strong> - Not so fast! Show him your weapon, champ!</p><p><strong>YOU</strong> - "Voila!"</p><p>You whip out your secret weapon.</p><p> </p><p><strong>KIM KITSURAGI</strong> - He eyes the butter knife in your hand with dismay.</p><p><strong>ESPRIT DE CORPS</strong> - This is it, the lieutenant thinks to himself. I'm going to die in the middle of a fancy restaurant. And on our first date too...</p><p><strong>PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT</strong> [Legendary: Failure] - Not so fast! You can totally beat those punks with this knife!!!</p><p><strong>LOGIC</strong> - What are you going to do, spread pâté on them until they have a heart attack?</p><p><strong>HALF-LIGHT</strong> - You <em>could</em> stab them with it, but that'll be really messy. </p><p> </p><p><strong>YOU</strong> - Wincing, you toss the butter knife over your shoulder. "Sorry. My bad."</p><p><strong>KIM KITSURAGI</strong> - The lieutenant sighs. "We don't have much time." He peeks out of the table cloth. "Two of them are going around the room. I can't see the other one, but he must be guarding the entrance..."</p><p><strong>LOGIC</strong> [Challenging: Success] - If you both charge at the two goons, the third one's going to open fire on you. Therefore--</p><p><strong>YOU</strong> - "We need to split up. I'll take care of the two guys. Can you handle the one by the door?"</p><p><strong>KIM KITSURAGI</strong> - He frowns. </p><p><strong>HALF-LIGHT</strong> [Easy: Success] - He doesn't like the idea of you facing against two enemies at once. Too many things can go wrong.</p><p><strong>EMPATHY</strong> [Easy: Success] - But he can't think of a better plan either.</p><p><strong>KIM KITSURAGI</strong> - Eventually, he nods. "Alright, I'll take care of the guard. But how are you going to deal with his friends?"</p><p> </p><p><strong>LOGIC</strong> [Legendary: Failure] - You have no clue.</p><p><strong>DRAMA</strong> [Challenging: Failure] - But the lieutenant doesn't need to know that. Improvise, sire!</p><p><strong>YOU</strong> - You shoot him a wink. "With my superstar acting skills, of course."</p><p><strong>KIM KITSURAGI</strong> - He gives you the same withering look that he gave the butter knife.</p><p>"Harry," he says.</p><p><strong>COMPOSURE</strong> - The lieutenant's tone makes you feel like a little boy who just did something very, very naughty. </p><p><strong>ELECTROCHEMISTRY</strong> - And not the <em>fun</em> kind of naughty either. </p><p><b>DRAMA </b>- "Harry" is such a horrible name! A shameful name! A disgraceful name! You must get rid of it at once!</p><p> </p><p><strong>YOU</strong> - "Okay, okay, I don't exactly know how I'm going to do that yet. But I'll figure something out!"</p><p><strong>SUGGESTION</strong> [Heroic: Failure] - The lieutenant doesn't look convinced. </p><p><strong>PERCEPTION (HEARING)</strong> [Easy: Success] - Suddenly, a woman shrieks somewhere behind you, accompanied by barked orders from the robbers. They're much, much closer than before...</p><p><strong>HALF-LIGHT</strong> [Easy: Success] - Time's running out! Do or die, people!!!</p><p> </p><p><strong>YOU</strong> - "Kim, go!"</p><p><strong>COMPOSURE</strong> [Medium: Success] - A battle plays out behind his eyes. </p><p><strong>EMPATHY</strong> [Easy: Success] - He doesn't want to leave you. He doesn't want you to get hurt--</p><p><strong>ESPRIT DE CORPS</strong> [Easy: Success] - But he knows that if he doesn't go now, then you're both dead.</p><p><strong>COMPOSURE</strong> [Formidable: Success] - After a few seconds, the lieutenant overcomes his hesitation and gives you a firm nod.</p><p> </p><p><strong>KIM KITSURAGI</strong> - "Okay. I'm heading out."</p><p>He doesn't move.</p><p><b>YOU</b> - Neither do you.</p><p><strong>EMPATHY</strong> [Easy: Success] - You're both thinking about the same thing.</p><p><strong>INLAND EMPIRE</strong> [Easy: Success] - You will regret this for the rest of your life if you don't do it now. </p><p><strong>ELECTROCHEMISTRY</strong> [Easy: Success] - Come on, baby. Take the leap!</p><p> </p><p><strong>YOU</strong> - You lean in--</p><p><strong>KIM KITSURAGI</strong> - He darts forward--</p><p> </p><p><strong>PERCEPTION (TASTE)</strong> [Easy: Success] - Chestnuts and cigarettes.</p><p>Just as you thought.</p><p> </p><p><strong>KIM KITSURAGI</strong> - After what seems like an eternity and a second, the lieutenant--no, <em>Kim</em>--pulls away and looks you in the eye.</p><p>"Take care, Harry."</p><p><strong>DRAMA </strong>- "Harry." What a beautiful name. A lovely name. An <em>honorable</em> name. You are blessed to have it.</p><p><strong>RHETORIC</strong> [Easy: Success] - The lieutenant wanted to tell you something else. But he chose not to.</p><p><strong>ESPRIT DE CORPS</strong> [Easy: Success] - Because if he said those words to you now, then he'll be entertaining the possibility that he'll never get to say them to you again. </p><p>And that is a thought that he cannot accept.</p><p> </p><p><strong>VOLITION</strong> - Will you tell him?</p><p><strong>YOU</strong> - ...</p><p>...No. </p><p>I'll tell him later too. Once we've beaten the crap out of these guys.</p><p> </p><p><strong>DRAMA</strong> - 'Tis time to bid the lieutenant farewell, sire.</p><p><strong>YOU </strong>- You give him a shaky smile. </p><p>"Take care, Kim."</p><p> </p><p><strong>KIM KITSURAGI</strong> - He gives you a nervous smile of his own. </p><p>Then, he slips out, leaving you alone in the dark, the taste of chestnuts and cigarettes still lingering on your lips.</p><p> </p><p><strong>VOLITION</strong> - Good news: Your neocortex is still working after that little stunt. </p><p><strong>ENCYCLOPEDIA</strong> [Easy: Failure] - Huh? Neo-what now?</p><p><strong>VOLITION</strong> - ...Well. The important bits, at least.</p><p> </p><p><strong>HALF-LIGHT</strong> - Bad news: Those two goons are headed your way with <em>shotguns</em>, and you <em>still</em> don't have a fucking plan!</p><p><strong>LOGIC </strong>- Alright, people: Thinking caps ON! Throw me some ideas!</p><p><strong>HALF-LIGHT</strong> - Grab a steak knife, wait for the goons, then jump them!</p><p><strong>LOGIC</strong> – They’ll blast your head off. Next!</p><p><strong>PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT</strong> – Flip the table at ‘em, smack the first guy with a chair, turn around, then smack his buddy with the chair!</p><p><strong>LOGIC</strong> – Feasible, but Kim probably won’t be at the entrance yet, so the third guy can still shoot you. We need something that’ll buy him time <em>and</em> stop the robbers from hurting anyone.</p><p><strong>ELECTROCHEMISTRY</strong> – Take off your clothes and distract them with your hot bod!</p><p><strong>LOGIC </strong>– No.</p><p><strong>VOLITION</strong> – No.</p><p><strong>SAVOIR FAIRE</strong> – No.</p><p><strong>ELECTROCHEMISTRY </strong>– But—</p><p><strong>LOGIC</strong> – Next!</p><p><strong>AUTHORITY</strong> - Whip out your badge, yell “YOU’RE UNDER ARREST, MOTHERFUCKERS!!!” then subdue them with the long arm of the Law!</p><p><strong>LOGIC</strong> – Badass, but what’s the long arm of the Law?</p><p><strong>AUTHORITY</strong> – Your arm. But <em>longer</em>.</p><p><strong>LOGIC</strong> – Forget I said anything. Anyone else—</p><p> </p><p><strong>MASKED ROBBER ONE</strong> – “Hand over that necklace, bitch!”</p><p><strong>PERCEPTION (HEARING)</strong> [Formidable: Success] – A woman shrieks—She’s somewhere to your left, less than ten meters away...</p><p><strong>HALF-LIGHT</strong> [Easy: Success] – Oh god—Stop talking and just <em>do something</em>, dammit!!!</p><p><strong>DRAMA </strong>– Sire, may I suggest adopting a more diversionary approach?</p><p><strong>LOGIC</strong> – Interesting. Please expound.</p><p><strong>HALF-LIGHT</strong> [Easy: Success] – In ten seconds or less!!!</p><p><strong>DRAMA </strong>– You’ll need something to help you get in character. Something alcoholic, preferably.</p><p><strong>ELECTROCHEMISTRY</strong> – Say no more, friend!!!</p><p> </p><p><strong>YOU </strong>– You cautiously peek out of the table cloth and look around.</p><p><strong>PERCEPTION (SIGHT)</strong> [Easy: Success] – There, on the next table—a bottle of wine!</p><p><strong>SAVOIR FAIRE</strong> [Formidable: Success] – On it!</p><p> </p><p><strong>YOU</strong> – Your arm darts out like a snake—the bottle is in your grasp! With your prize in hand, you hastily retreat back into the safety of your table.</p><p><strong>LOGIC</strong> - Okay, you have the wine. Now what?</p><p><strong>ELECTROCHEMISTRY </strong>- Why, you get absolutely fucking wasted, of course!</p><p><strong>YOU </strong>– Wait, how's that going to help???</p><p><strong>PAIN THRESHOLD</strong> – It’ll make your impending death less painful.</p><p><strong>DRAMA</strong> – Morbid thoughts aside, the spirit of Al-Gul will allow you to invoke your innermost self!</p><p><strong>YOU </strong>- But my innermost self is a deadbeat alcoholic.</p><p><strong>DRAMA </strong>- Exactly.</p><p> </p><p><strong>LOGIC</strong> - Wait, so what you're saying is we need to get drunk and--</p><p><strong>ELECTROCHEMISTRY</strong> – Be yourself.</p><p><strong>RHETORIC</strong> – You mean rail against unjust political structures and/or warn the ignorant masses about the impending entroponetic apocalypse while bawling like a choleric infant?</p><p><strong>ELECTROCHEMISTRY</strong> – Yep! Just like old times!</p><p><strong>DRAMA </strong>- The miscreants will be so enthralled by your drunken display that they won't notice the lieutenant sneaking up to their companion, sire!</p><p><strong>PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT</strong> - Then you can smack 'em <em>both</em> with a chair!!!</p><p><strong>LOGIC</strong> - Yes. Chair-smacking would be a viable course of action at that point. </p><p> </p><p><strong>YOU </strong>– But...but I don’t want to be that animal again.</p><p><strong>HALF-LIGHT</strong> – Too bad, buddy. That animal’s our only hope right now.</p><p><strong>VOLITION</strong> – I hate to say it, but it’s our best option. Do it. </p><p><strong>YOU</strong> – But--</p><p><strong>SUGGESTION</strong> [Easy: Success] - Do it for Kim.</p><p> </p><p><strong>VOLITION</strong> [Heroic: Success] – Grim determination surges through you.</p><p><strong>YOU</strong> – You raise the bottle towards the empty space where Kim used to be.</p><p><strong>DRAMA </strong>– For love!</p><p><strong>AUTHORITY</strong> – For justice!</p><p><strong>RHETORIC</strong> – For—</p><p><strong>HALF-LIGHT</strong> – FOR GOD'S SAKE JUST GET WASTED ALREADY!!!</p><p> </p><p><strong>YOU</strong> – Closing your eyes, you take a long, deep swig...</p><p><strong>ELECTROCHEMISTRY</strong> [Easy: Success] – Scarlet fire gushes down your throat, sizzles through your stomach, and sets your blood on fire.</p><p><strong>SAVOIR FAIRE</strong> [Legendary: Failure] – The world starts to sway and spin around you like a restless sea.</p><p><strong>VOLITION </strong>[Legendary: Failure] – Deep within your soul, a cage bursts open, releasing the animal that you once were.</p><p><strong>ELECTROCHEMISTRY</strong> [Easy: Success] – <em>Long time no see, Harry-boy</em>. <em>I missed you--</em></p><p>
  <em>Did you miss <strong>me</strong>?</em>
</p><p> </p><p><strong>DRAMA</strong> – It is time, sire. </p><p><strong>HAND/EYE COORDINATION</strong> [Legendary: Failure] – With the lumbering grace of a man with 12 grams of pure alcohol running through his bloodstream, you clamber up to your chair, still clutching the bottle of wine.</p><p><strong>VOLITION</strong> [Easy: Success] – Lights out.</p><p><strong>YOU</strong> – Mmhmmm...</p><p>Yawning, you pillow your head on your arms, close your eyes, and wait for your prey.  </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Saturday Night Fever (Part Two)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lenny and his boys are having a grand time tonight.</p><p>“Hand over the necklace, bitch!” he yells, jabbing his shotgun at a swanky-looking old couple.</p><p>Hands trembling, the woman drops her pearl necklace into the bag that Lenny’s accomplice, Lil’ Jim, holds out to her.</p><p>Lenny points at her emerald-studded ears. “Earrings.”</p><p>“B-But...”</p><p>“It’s alright, sugar bunny,” her husband says, and Lenny’s not sure if he wants to laugh or puke at that nickname, “No heirloom’s worth dying for. Besides,” he whispers, “we can always buy a new pair.”</p><p> </p><p>Now, Lenny’s a patient guy. Couldn’t have survived a decade in Reunion if he weren’t. But if there’s one thing he can’t stand, it’s these goddamned millionaires who felt like they owned the whole fucking world—</p><p>“Woah there, Len,” Lil’ Jim’s squeaky voice pierces through the red haze that fogs Lenny’s mind.  “Ease up. These hogs ain’t worth it.”</p><p>Lenny doesn’t move.</p><p>After a few tense seconds, he removes his gun from the man’s glistening forehead.</p><p>“Earrings,” he growls. “<em> Now </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“Holy shit, man,” Lil’ Jim mutters as they stalk away from the couple’s table. “Thought you were gonna blast his brains out.”</p><p>Lenny snorts, still pissed as hell. “Should’ve let me do it.”</p><p>“Nah, waste of bullets. Didn’t look like he had lotsa brains to blast out.” Lil’ Jim jerks his chin towards the back of the room. “Come on. Few more tables, then we’re outta here.”</p><p> </p><p>They’ve been doing this for a couple of years now, though there used to be five of them—Lenny, Lil’ Jim, Big Jim (Lil’ Jim’s bigger, younger brother, who’s guarding the entrance right now), a lanky Mesque named Tonio (may he rest in peace), and a fat bastard named Hermie (may he rest in pieces). They’d been cellmates in Reunion, that five-star shithole where criminals were sent to rot away in cells so small you couldn’t take a piss without hitting someone else’s feet. Prisoners like them didn’t get a lot of luxuries, like clean water and decent food. But what they did have in heaping, steaming shitloads was free time, which they spent trading sob stories and listing down the names of all the bitches that they’ve ever fucked (and surprise, surprise: Lil’ Jim beat them all by a mile and a half).</p><p>After months of breathing the same, stinky air, eating the same, shitty food, and laughing at the same, dirty jokes, the five of them found out that they had a lot of things in common: They were all dirt poor, loved their mothers, hated the fucking oligarchs, and most importantly, they were all crooks—not very good ones, admittedly, since they all got caught. But as it turns out, if you put five bad crooks together, you end up with a mediocre group of crooks who had much better chances of success than one poor schmuck going at it alone.</p><p> </p><p>They had to wait a few years, but as soon as everyone was out of the slammer, they hit the ground running. Lil’ Jim got them guns; Lenny found them a hide-out; Hermie got them a van; and Tonio got them some juicy targets. Big Jim didn’t do much except stand behind them and glare at the unlucky folks they needed to talk to, which was probably why they got all that stuff so fast.</p><p>They started out small—a newspaper kiosk here, a mom-and-pop shop there. Then they worked their way up to bigger fish, like cafés full of communard kids who didn’t seem very supportive of the proletariat when said proletariat shoved guns at their faces and yelled at them to fork over all their money.</p><p>Then one day, while Lenny and the Jims were out buying lunch, Tonio and Hermie decided to blow some steam by doing a small job on their own. Something nice and easy, just so they didn’t get rusty.</p><p>So they put on their ski masks, grabbed their guns, and marched into the nearest Frittte.</p><p>They never marched out.</p><p> </p><p>It’s been two years since then, and even though Big Jim still freaks out whenever they pass by a Frittte, the three of them have done pretty well for themselves—well enough to bribe the security guard at the Chez to look the other way while they cut the telephone line, barred the fire exit door, and started waltzing through the place like little boys plucking apples from an orchard. And judging from their haul so far, Lenny figures they’ll be able to buy their own little island near Safre and live out the rest of their lives like kings.</p><p>He’s daydreaming about bronze-skinned babes in straw skirts when Lil’ Jim taps him on the shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“What?” he grunts.</p><p>Lil’ Jim points to the back of the room. “Check this out, Len.”</p><p> </p><p>Lenny’s not sure what he was expecting to see, but he sure as hell wasn’t expecting to see a guy slumped over a table, looking like he’d just dozed off in the middle of a fucking hold-up.</p><p>He exchanges a look with Lil’ Jim, who shrugs. </p><p> </p><p>In silent agreement, they heft their guns and cautiously make their way to the back.</p><p>A lithe shadow darts between the tables behind them.</p><p> </p><p>As they approach the table, the first thing Lenny notices is the half-empty bottle of wine by the guy’s elbow, which explains why he didn’t hear Lenny and the Jims screaming, “THIS IS A HOLD-UP!!!!!” at the top of their lungs earlier.</p><p>Then he notices the guy’s clothes. He’s not wearing a tux like the other customers—just a comfy-looking sweater that looks like something you’d wear in a family diner than in a four-star restaurant. His watch looks expensive, though. Maybe he’s one of those weird billionaires who strut around in their pajamas everywhere...</p><p>Doesn’t matter, Lenny decides. He’s still gonna rob this guy blind.</p><p> </p><p>“Keep an eye on the others. I’ll wake him up,” he tells Lil’ Jim.</p><p>Gun cocked, Lil’ Jim nods and turns around to glare at the rest of the room.    </p><p> </p><p>If Lenny had voices in his head, one of them would have been screaming at him right now, telling him to leave this guy alone and get the hell out of there with their loot. But since Lenny has the misfortune of being both sane and kinda stupid, he swaggers up to the drunk and prods him with the barrel of his gun.</p><p>“Hey. Wake up."</p><p>The drunk snores.</p><p> </p><p>Lenny’s eyebrow twitches.</p><p>“Hey!” he says, louder this time.</p><p>The drunk mumbles something under his breath and sighs happily.</p><p> </p><p>At this point, Lenny could have done several things. He could’ve flipped the table. Or kicked the guy out of his chair. Or smashed the bottle of wine over his head.</p><p>But since Lenny’s a patient man, he leans forward, positions his mouth right next to the drunk’s ear, and goes, “WAKE UP, MOTHERFUCKER!!!!”</p><p> </p><p>It works. With a loud yelp, the drunk tumbles out of his chair and flails around the floor like a gigantic, overturned turtle.</p><p>Lenny helps him out by giving him a good kick in the ribs.</p><p>“Ow!” The drunk whips his head up and looks around blearily. “Wha...Whaddahell—”</p><p>Lenny points his shotgun straight at the guy’s big, red nose.</p><p>“This is a robbery, bud. Gimme all your cash.”</p><p> </p><p>The drunk looks at Lenny.</p><p>Then, he slowly crosses his eyes and looks at Lenny’s gun.</p><p> </p><p>This is it, Lenny thinks with malicious glee. He’s gonna piss himself like a fucking coward.</p><p>The drunk’s eyes well up with tears.</p><p>...Or he’s going to bawl like a baby, Lenny amends. That’s fine too. He’s seen plenty of people cry and beg for their lives during a robbery.</p><p>But instead of pissing himself or bawling like the baby, the drunk stares up at Lenny with...awe?</p><p> </p><p>“Y-you’re robbing me?” he splutters, unleashing a wave of alcohol-breath so potent it makes Lenny’s eyes water behind his mask.</p><p>“No, I’m collecting your taxes,” Lenny pushes his gun against the guy’s nose. “<em> Of course </em> I’m robbing you!!!”</p><p> </p><p>That should’ve been enough to reduce anyone to a blubbering, terrified mess. But while the guy does blubber, he looks anything but terrified.</p><p>“Oh!” he gasps, big fat tears rolling down his splotchy face. “Oh, finally! FINALLY!!!”</p><p> </p><p>Lenny frowns, baffled.</p><p>“Uh. You okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay? Okay???” the drunk sobs, “I’m absolutely <em> splendid </em>!!!”</p><p>Using the barrel of Lenny’s gun for support, he staggers up to his feet and—to Lenny’s horror—shoves his hand down the front of his own pants.</p><p>“The fuck--???!!!!” Lenny splutters.</p><p>The drunk’s too busy rummaging around his crotch to pay any attention to him.</p><p> </p><p>It takes around five seconds—the longest five seconds in Lenny’s life—before the guy finally pulls his hand out with an apologetic grin.</p><p>“Oh. (hic) Sorry,” he says.</p><p><em> Oh thank god </em>, Lenny thinks to himself.</p><p>But his relief is short-lived, because before he can say something, the drunk shoves his hand down the back of his pants and rummages around there instead.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, here we are!” With a victorious grin, the guy pulls out a ratty-looking wallet from---</p><p>“Did...Did you just pull that out of your ass???” Lenny splutters, horrified. </p><p>“What? No! I always (hic) keep my valuables tucked away with the family jewels,” The drunk tries to wink, but it ends up looking like a really uncomfortable squint instead. He thrusts his wallet towards Lenny. “Here, kind (hic) sir, you can have—”</p><p>“Woah woah woah,” Lenny backs away from the awful thing. “You can keep it! Just gimme the cash!” he says, refusing to take a guy’s wallet for the first time in his entire life.</p><p>“NO!!!” the drunk wails, “You <em> must </em> take it from me!!! I’ve been waiting for years— <em> years </em>!!! (hic)—for someone to cleave me from this accursed wealth—”</p><p> </p><p>“Len?” Lil’ Jim backs up to Lenny’s side while keeping his eyes on the crowd. “What the fuck’s going on here?”</p><p>Lenny would’ve answered him, but he has no idea what the fuck’s going on either.</p><p>“It’s a burden! A burden, I say!!!!!” the drunk continues, spittle flying from his frothing mouth. “Day and night, I am haunted by visions of starving children, their bodies wasting away before my very eyes, while I—” He smacks his formidable belly, “feast upon the rotten fruits of my own insatiable greed!!!”</p><p> </p><p>Meanwhile, a few feet away from where Lenny and Lil’ Jim are held captive by this bizarre (yet strangely moving) speech, a gloved hand slips out from beneath a table, grabs a heavy, silver candlestick, and disappears into the tablecloth with its prize.</p><p> </p><p>“You!” The drunk points an unsteady finger at a horrified-looking gentleman who clearly doesn’t want to be dragged into this mess. “When was the last time you gave money to a street urchin? Hm? Hmmmm???!!!”</p><p>“Well, as it happens,” the man says, making the fatal mistake of trying to answer that question seriously, “I sit at the board of a particularly well-known charity that provides financial assistance to—”</p><p>“NO!” The drunk slams a fist on the man’s table, launching its occupants and their cutlery into the air. “Charities are lies! Illusions! Veils that we throw upon our eyes to convince ourselves of our own righteousness!” He grabs the man by the lapels and pulls him forward until they’re almost nose-to-nose. “When was the last time you dropped a penny into a poor child’s hand??? Looked into his eyes, breathed in his unwashed scent, felt <em> physical pain </em> at the sight of his small, skeletal body????”</p><p> </p><p>The ends of the man’s moustache curl up from the noxious fumes that just blasted into his face.  His eyes water.</p><p>“I...I---”</p><p>But before he can answer, the drunk shoves him away and scans the crowd for another target.  </p><p>“And you!” He yells, jabbing his finger at the empty space a few inches to the left of a very confused-looking grand dame, “When was the last time—”</p><p>The woman slowly raises her hand. “Er. I’m...over here?”</p><p>“Hm? Ah, right.” The drunk corrects his aim and clears his throat. “And you!!!” he booms, while the woman adopts an appropriately panicked expression. “When was the last time you had to choose between feeding your starving children and buying medicine for your dying husband???”</p><p> </p><p>The woman glances around for help. Unfortunately, her companions are preoccupied with studying their dinnerware.</p><p>“Erm,” she says, looking very much like a student who didn’t know there was going to be a test today. “N-Never?”</p><p>“Exactly!!!!” The drunk’s finger whips up to the ceiling, causing several people to flinch away lest they become its next victim. “Don’t you see??? We are all slaves!!! Slaves of our wealth, our luxury! We eat and drink and gorge ourselves on the finest food, while the rest of our brethren feed on scraps—” He pauses. “Or <em> worse </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Silence descends upon the dining room. And when Lenny looks around, he spots a few people—ladies <em> and </em> gents—who have actual tears in their eyes.</p><p>The drunk continues, his tone somber and solemn this time. “But these gentlemen—” That all-powerful finger points straight at Lenny and Lil’ Jim. “These gentlemen are not robbers, crooks, or criminals—”</p><p>“Uh,” Lil’ Jim pipes up, “Actually, we are.”</p><p>“They are our liberators!!!” The drunk shouts, ignoring him. “They have come to liberate us from our selfishness, our greed, our inordinate attachment to these trifle, petty objects that shackle us to this gilded cage of inhumanity!!!”</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly, Lenny feels several eyes on him.</p><p>“Yeah,” he nods, feeling a lot like a hapless shrimp who just got sucked into the rip tide of the drunk’s rhetoric. “Yeah, that’s what we’re doing.”</p><p> </p><p>Murmurs arise from the crowd.</p><p>“Can it be true?”</p><p>“I never thought of it that way!”</p><p>“The gentleman makes a fine point!”</p><p> </p><p>Something flies through the air and lands with a clatter by Lenny’s feet. Surprised, he looks down and sees something small, and sparkly...</p><p>A diamond brooch.</p><p>“What the—”</p><p>“Please, kind sir!” a lady wails from somewhere on his left. “You must take that detestable object from me! I cannot bear to wear it anymore!”</p><p>“Yes, take this too!” A monocled man frantically thrusts a golden pocketwatch towards Lil’ Jim. “I...I bought this using company money,” he sobs. “Let me atone for my crimes!!!”</p><p> </p><p>To Lenny’s amazement, more jewelry starts flying at him from all directions.</p><p>“Take my earrings!”</p><p>“I still have some cash!!!”</p><p>“Here, take my wife’s wedding ring!!!!”</p><p>“What??? Henry, what are you---”</p><p> </p><p>“Len!” Lil’ Jim yells, raising his arms to shield himself from the rain of valuables. “What the hell are we supposed to do???”</p><p>Lenny’s crook instincts kick in.</p><p>“What do you think???” He bends down and starts shovelling the jewelry into his arms. “Pick them up and put ‘em in the bag!!!”</p><p> </p><p>From his post by the entrance of the Chez, Big Jim watches the commotion at the back of the room with childish delight and great confusion. It’s not everyday that people actually threw the shiny stuff at them, but he’s gotta admit that it’s mighty kind of them to do that. Made Lenny and his older bro’s jobs a lot easier—</p><p>Someone taps him on the shoulder.</p><p>“Huh?” He turns around.</p><p> </p><p>Kim smiles.</p><p>“Hello.”</p><p>He whips out the candlestick and slams it into Big Jim’s temple.</p><p> </p><p>Lenny’s busy dropping loot into Lil’ Jim’s overflowing bag when he’s startled by a loud crash.</p><p>“The fuck—”</p><p>And that’s when the drunk smacks him with a chair.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p><b>GOON NUMBER ONE</b> – The chair cracks against the back of his head, knocking him out instantly.</p><p><b>PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT</b> [Formidable: Success] – BOOM!!! TAKE THAT, MOTHERFUCKER!!!</p><p><b>GOON NUMBER TWO</b> – “Shit!!!”</p><p>The loot bag falls to the ground, spilling jewelry and cash everywhere. He raises his gun—</p><p><b>REACTION SPEED</b> [Formidable: Success] – Oh no, you don’t!</p><p><b>PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT</b> [Challenging: Success] – Swing from your hips, son!!!</p><p>
  
</p><p><b>YOU </b>– Yelling hoarsely, you swing the chair and hit the second goon on the chin.</p><p><b>PAIN THRESHOLD</b> – Ouch! Someone’s going home without his front teeth tonight.</p><p><b>GOON NUMBER TWO</b> – The impact launches him into the air, his feet clearing the ground for a good two seconds before he crashes down to the floor.</p><p><b>PERCEPTION (HEARING)</b> - Shrieks and screams erupt around you, but you can barely hear them over the wild pounding of your heart.    </p><p><b>HALF-LIGHT</b> [Easy: Success] – Hurt him. Crush him. Make him <em> bleed </em>.</p><p> </p><p><b>YOU </b>– Kicking the goon’s gun away, you walk towards him with the chair hefted over your shoulder like a gigantic bat. </p><p><b>GOON NUMBER TWO</b> – The masked man scrabbles away from you. His back hits a table. His eyes are wide with terror.</p><p><b>PERCEPTION</b> [Challenging: Success] – In his irises, you see an identical pair of tiny, grinning, red-faced demons who are growing larger and larger by the second...</p><p><b>YOU </b>– Still grinning like a madman, you lift the chair over your head and prepare to deliver the killing blow—</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI</b> – “HARRY, WATCH OUT!!!”</p><p><b>PERCEPTION</b> [Easy: Success] – A disturbance in the air behind you. Then, a guttural how of rage.</p><p><b>HALF-LIGHT</b> [Challenging: Success] – Drop to the floor!!!</p><p> </p><p><b>YOU </b>– Driven by pure instinct, you duck, narrowly avoiding being blasted to bits by the shotgun aimed at your back.</p><p><b>HALF-LIGHT</b> – That was point-blank. You would’ve been dead if it weren’t for Kim.</p><p><b>GOON NUMBER ONE</b> – From the corner of your eye, you see him panic and fumble with his gun.</p><p><b>HAND/EYE COORDINATION</b> – He’s reloading!</p><p><b>AUTHORITY </b>– Shooting while your back was turned??? Punish this dishonorable scumbag!!!</p><p><b>PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT</b> [Heroic: Success] – Fueled by adrenaline and Al-Gul, you push off the ground and kick your heel into Goon Number One’s jaw.</p><p><b>REACTION SPEED</b> – Quick, the gun!</p><p><b>HAND/EYE COORDINATION</b> [Medium: Success] – As the goon topples over, you scramble backward and grab his shotgun.</p><p><b>PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT</b> – Make sure he stays down this time!</p><p><b>YOU</b> – Jumping to your feet, you grasp the gun by the barrel and swing with all your might.</p><p><b>GOON NUMBER ONE</b> – The stock of the gun collides with the goon’s skull with a satisfying crack. With a wet gurgle, he falls limp, head lolling on the floor. </p><p><b>HALF-LIGHT</b> – Don’t forget the other guy!</p><p><b>YOU</b> – You turn around, fully intent on finishing off the second goon.</p><p> </p><p><b>PERCEPTION</b> [Legendary: Failure] – You don’t see the bottle until it’s too late.</p><p><b>PAIN THRESHOLD</b> [Heroic: Success] - The world explodes in a spray of glass, wine, and pain. But you somehow manage to stand your ground.</p><p><b>VOLITION</b> –  Just a flesh wound. It’ll take more than that to bring you down. </p><p><b>ELECTROCHEMISTRY </b>– But hey, maybe the booze can numb the pain a bit!   </p><p><b>YOU</b> – As the second goon watches on in horrified amazement, you stick out your tongue and catch some of the wine dripping down your face.</p><p><b>PERCEPTION (TASTE)</b> – Light-bodied. Fruity notes with a hint of spice. A pinot noir, most likely.</p><p><b>YOU </b>– You tilt your head and nod.</p><p>“Nice vintage.”</p><p><b>PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT</b> – Before the goon can react, you grab his collar, whip your head back, and smash your forehead into his face.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow—”</p><p> </p><p>Kim sighs.</p><p> </p><p>“Stay still,” he says, carefully plucking out a shard of glass from Harry’s scalp. “It’s hard enough getting all this glass out of your head without you moving around.”</p><p>Harry's lower lip wobbles. “But it huuuuurts,” he whines.</p><p>Suppressing a smile, Kim rolls his eyes. Harry might be acting like a big baby, but he’s a big baby who just single-handedly took out two armed men, so Kim’s willing to give him some slack.</p><p>“Don’t worry. I’m almost done.” He sets down the forceps and soaks a piece of cotton with alcohol. “This is going to sting."</p><p>Harry eyes the cotton ball warily. A few seconds later, the litany starts anew.</p><p>“Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow—!”</p><p> </p><p>The two of them are seated on a cushy sofa in the Chez’s main office, the contents of a first aid kid strewn between them. Between the wine bottle and the second goon’s forehead, Harry had sustained enough head trauma to warrant immediate medical attention, which Kim (once again) took upon himself to provide. The head manager had been more than willing to lend them his office, and the chefs, armed with their meat cleavers, had been more than happy to watch over the tied-up goons in the kitchen while they waited for back-up to arrive.</p><p> </p><p>“He got you good,” Kim murmurs as he continues to clean out Harry’s wounds. “I’m surprised you didn’t get knocked out.”</p><p>Harry tries to smile. “What can I say—ow!” he winces, “My skull’s harder than it looks.”</p><p> </p><p><em> Thank Dolores for that </em>, Kim thinks, soaking a fresh piece of cotton and pressing it against the cut on Harry’s temple.</p><p>“That was some very good acting, though. Some of the customers actually cried when I tied those robbers up,” he says.  </p><p>“Might have acted a bit <em> too </em> well,” Harry's voice is tight with stifled pain. “Could’ve used some help taking those guys down.”</p><p> </p><p>Kim winces.</p><p>“I’m sorry. I tried to go back as fast as I could—”</p><p>But things had happened too fast. The big goon’s skull had been just as tough as Harry’s, and by the time Kim had finally knocked him out, the goon with the shotgun was already aiming at Harry—</p><p>“You kidding me? You saved my life, Kim!" Harry grins. "There’d be a giant hole in my chest right now if it weren’t for you.”</p><p>Disarmed by that grin, Kim allows himself a small smile.</p><p>“I hope,” he says, trying to forget the frozen dagger of fear that ran through him when he saw that shotgun, “that the rest of our dates aren’t as exciting as this one.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry’s probably concussed, because Kim manages to finish cleaning all his wounds before his eyes light up. </p><p>“’The rest of our dates’?” he says in a hushed voice.</p><p> </p><p>Kim keeps the cotton and takes out the gauze.</p><p>“Did I stutter?”</p><p> </p><p>Taking advantage of Harry’s stunned silence, he unwinds the roll and starts to carefully wrap Harry’s head with gauze. He should probably let Harry sleep over at his place tonight, just in case the concussion’s more severe than it looks. Luckily, it’s Sunday tomorrow, so they’ll both have time to recuperate before—</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>Kim glances at Harry. “Why what?”</p><p>“Why would you want to go out with me again?” Harry asks. “After what happened tonight?”</p><p> </p><p>Kim’s hands stop moving.</p><p>He looks at Harry’s face and takes in the expression of utter dejection that he sees there. </p><p>“I don’t know,” he says, resuming his task. “Why <em> would </em> I want to go out with you again?”</p><p>Harry’s face falls even further.</p><p> </p><p>“After all,” Kim continues, “it’s not like you just foiled a robbery. Or single-handedly knocked out two armed men while you were unarmed. Or risked your life to ensure the safety of all the civilians who were here.”</p><p>Holding the gauze in place, he takes a pair of scissors, snips off the excess, and braces himself.</p><p>“It’s not like I almost lost you tonight,” he says quietly.</p><p> </p><p>Not trusting his voice to keep steady if he said anything more, Kim busies himself with securing the gauze on Harry’s head with a safety pin and packing away the medical supplies into the first aid kit.</p><p>He’s reaching for the antiseptic when Harry gently grabs his wrist.</p><p>“Kim,” he says.</p><p> </p><p>Kim looks at the hand on his wrist.</p><p>Then, he looks at Harry's bruised face.  </p><p> </p><p>And when Harry leans in to kiss him, he closes his eyes and lets the world fall away.</p><p> </p><p>The door bursts open.</p><p>“Apologies for the wait, gentlemen,” Leonard says, wheeling in a trolley full of food. “Dinner is—”</p><p>Five seconds pass by. </p><p>“Khm. I’ll just...leave this here then.”</p><p>Harry and Kim ignore him.</p><p> </p><p>With a finesse borne from embarrassment and professionalism, Leonard slips out of the room and quietly closes the door behind him.</p><p>He stands in the hallway and thinks for a moment before walking off with a purposeful stride. </p><p> </p><p>A “DO NOT DISTURB” sign appears on the doorknob moments later.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Epilogue: Monday</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s Monday morning, and Jean’s trying to wrap his head around what he just heard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So let me get this straight,” he says slowly. “You and the shitkid went to a fancy restaurant, stopped a robbery at said restaurant, beat up the perps, and—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Got a lifetime discount from the manager.” Kim finishes for him. “Yes, that’s correct.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Jean stares at him incredulously before looking at the neatly labelled folder on his desk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And this is...?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The incident report that I wrote about the robbery.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frowning, Jean checks his watch. “But it’s only—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wrote it over the weekend,” Kim explains. “While watching over Detective Du Bois.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Jean waits for him to continue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kim doesn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” Jean says, acknowledging defeat, “where’s the shitkid now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At the lazareth’s office,” Kim responds, graciously accepting his surrender. “He got concussed during the fight, so I wanted Dr. Gottlieb to look him over today.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Jean nods.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Thanks.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Kim nods back at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You’re welcome.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What about my car? Did he end up trashing it?” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh god, please let him have trashed it—</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“FUCK! I mean—” Jean coughs. “That’s...good to hear.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Kim’s face remains as impassive, but his eyes glint with amusement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I drove it here today and parked it in your slot,” He tosses the keys to Jean, who catches them easily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, lieutenant.” Then, Jean remembers something. “Mind if I ask one more question?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go ahead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you have to promise me to tell the truth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Kim says, as if the idea of lying to Jean never even occurred to him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Jean leans forward and narrows his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you and the shitkid make out in my car?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>To his disappointment, Kim doesn’t even flinch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We didn’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean breathes out a sigh of relief. “Oh thank god—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We made out in the manager’s office,” Kim continues. “Though we didn’t get very far, since we were both starving.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Several seconds pass in utter silence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would that be all, Satellite Officer?” Kim asks, as if he didn’t just cause Jean’s brain to short circuit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh. Sure.” Face burning, Jean coughs. “Go ahead, lieutenant.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>With a curt nod, Kim walks out of the office, and Jean swears that there’s the faintest hint of a smile on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Congratulations, shitkid,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Jean thinks. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Looks like you’re getting another date soon.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Smirking, he tosses his keys in the air.  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And you’d better trash my fucking car next time, goddammit. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading, everyone! Hope you enjoyed the ride. :) Shout-out to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lepak/pseuds/Lepak">Lepak</a> and <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/cicadabug/pseuds/circopoi">circopoi</a> for helping me brainstorm the fight scene in Chapter 6!</p><p>P.S. For any fic writers/beta-readers out there who would like to create/beta-read DE content, we've set up a small Discord server where we can gather together and <strike>be feral</strike> give each other encouragement and support. Leave a comment or DM me on Twitter (@luminality2) if you're interested to join!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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